This Time Imperfect
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: Men cannot truly understand the heart of an elf. Character death. Slash, AragornxLegolas LegolasxEomer AragornxArwen. ONESHOT. Songfic.


**Title: **This Time Imperfect

**Author: **IndigoNight

**Feedback: **Yes please

**Summary:** Men cannot truly understand the heart of an elf.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Lord of the Rings or the characters, nor do I own the song lyrics.

**Spoilers: **Pretty much, for the end.

**Pairing:** LegolasxAragorn (onesided), Legolas/Eomer (onesided), Aragorn/Arwen (implied)

**Warnings: **Slash, angst, character death, song fic.

**Author's Note: **This song This Time Imperfect by AFI is quite possibly the most beautiful song I have ever heard, so I had to write a fic to it, and this is what came out. Yes, Eomer's involvement is sort of random, but I like it. Read, Review,

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_I cannot leave here, I cannot stay  
Forever haunted, more than afraid_

"I am pledged to another," the human says. It is not a rejection, only a warning.

"I know." Practically every elf did.

"This is of the body only, nothing more."

The regal head inclines, blonde tresses falling forward to hide the very briefest flash of sorrow in his eyes. This ranger, despite living with elves nearly all his life, will never understand the nature of an elven heart.

But Legolas will not correct him. He knows, and he accepts his fate.

And even as they lie entwined he feels his heart begin to grow cold.

_I'd show a smile but I'm too weak  
I'd share with you could I only speak  
Just how much this, hurts me_

Legolas stands quietly and waits. He won't have to wait much longer, he sensed the approaching man long before he'd reached the gates.

The ice cold jewel he holds bites into the palm of his hand, much as the searing fire cuts into his heart. He knows he shouldn't keep doing this to himself, but he also knows he has no choice.

Aragorn almost doesn't even see him, barely stopping in time to prevent himself from running into him. Legolas tries to smile, and it isn't completely fake. He is relieved. Aragorn, his love, his bane, is here, living and breathing before him once more.

He tries to joke, and he thinks Aragorn believes him. Why shouldn't he? He has no reason to suspect, Legolas has made sure of that. But when he takes the ranger's hand, warm and solid in his own, and presses the jewel into it, he says nothing. He knows if he tried his voice would betray him.

Aragorn smiles at him, thanking him with eyes and touch, and once again Legolas' heart breaks.

_There are no flowers, no, not this time  
There'll be no angels gracing the lines_

"Surely, it isn't right what he does to you."

"I give him what he needs. I ask for nothing in return." The elven Prince's voice is soft.

Eomer cups his jaw in a hand roughed by war but ever so caring a touch. Pale blue eyes, ancient and yet so vulnerable, uncertainly meet dark brown. "With me you would not have to ask," the words are little more than a whisper, but the passion behind them would make the greatest of tree tremble. Legolas certainly did.

For an endless age they held like that, Legolas' breath shallow as his heart shredded itself over and over again. Eomer waiting patiently, burning from the inside out with passion, eyes smoldering as he delicately caressed the deceptively fragile white skin.

It is Legolas who breaks the moment first. His eyes flicker downward, unable to bare the fire of the other's gaze. "He's waiting for me." The words have almost no sound, but their meaning is clear.

He turns, and walks away.

_I cannot stay here, I cannot leave  
Just like all I love, I'm make-believe_

He lies in the warmth of his lover's arms, Aragorn's soft snores ruffling the loose hairs at the back of his neck, but reverie evades him.

Aragorn shifts against his back, settling himself as a dream lures him deeper into sleep. "Arwen," he murmurs, and Legolas does not have to look to see the smile on the man's face, nor hear the adoration in his voice.

Silent tears burn his eyes, but not one falls. He has done this, knowingly, to himself. He should leave, he knows, and return to his own rooms in the guest halls of Meduseld, but even knowing his lover dreams of another he cannot bring himself to pull away from the solid warmth.

So he stays. He pulls Aragorn's arm closer around him, lightly kissing the calloused palm; he closes his eyes, and he pretends.

_I'd show a smile but I'm too weak  
I'd share with you could I only speak_

It is everything Aragorn had ever dreamed of, and Legolas knows this. The King of Men looks beautiful as never before, wearing the mithril crown of his forefathers, with the Evenstar on his arm and the free people of Middle Earth bowing before him.

This is the day Aragorn fulfills his destiny. It is the day that was always meant to be, the day that all of Arda had been awaiting for millennia.

And so, even as his heart breaks and his skin grows cold, Legolas plasters the best smile he can possibly manage on his face, and watches in silence as the man he loves weds another.

_There are no flowers, no, not this time  
There'll be no angels gracing the lines  
Just these stark words I find_

"I love you, Aragorn, and without you I fade. Do not grieve, for I knew my fate from the beginning and go to it willingly. I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Legolas stares at the words. They are plain and simple, and yet they are the truth. Over the many months he had thought of this night, composed long speeches in his mind in which he would explained to Aragorn how much their time, short though it was, meant to him, and how he went to Mandos a rich soul for it.

But his heart and mind are now numb and he cannot summon the words, he cannot stir himself to a flowery speech of passion, and so he writes the simple truth.

He leaves the note folded neatly on his bed, next to his bow, quiver, and two beautiful knives. They are all that he has of value and he knows that Aragorn will see that they are cared for.

Without so much as a look back, he leaves the room and slips away into the shadows.

_I'd share with you could I only speak  
Just how much this, hurts me_

Eomer sighs in relief as he escapes the noise and light of the halls. It seems as though all of Middle Earth is celebrating King Elessar's joint coronation and marriage.

Eomer enjoys parties, but on this particular night a strange weight hung on his heart and gave him a distaste for being surrounded by so many joyous people. So he snuck away into the gardens, where there was quiet and peace.

Walking until the sounds and lights of the celebrations were nearly lost to the night, he finds that he is not the only one to seek escape, though he is not surprised.

Legolas sits quietly, his back resting against the broad trunk of an old oak, his face upturned to the stars. He seems at once incredibly sad and yet serene.

Eomer freezes, loathe to disrupt the elf's thoughts, but Legolas is already aware of him.

"Come, sit with me," his voice is soft, floating on the wind as though he is already nothing more than a spirit, "It is nice to have company."

Eomer does as he's bid, sitting as near to the elf as he dares. "Does something ail you, Legolas?" He inquires, although it is a foolish question, he knows well what troubles the Prince's heart.

"I am fading," Legolas says, calm and resigned.

Eomer remembers hearing stories of such things, and somehow he thinks that deep in his heart he has known this would happen since he first came to understand the tragedy of the beautiful Prince's love. But still his first reaction is to protest.

"Stay, Legolas. I am not him, but I could bring you happiness. I would worship you as you are meant to be worshipped." Impulsively he pulls the elf into his arms, as though by restraining his body he could also keep Legolas' soul.

Legolas smiles sadly, though he does not resist Eomer's arms. Humans simply did not understand the ways of an elven heart.

_Just how much this hurts me_

"Would that I had met you first," he said, allowing his face to rest against the larger man's firm chest, "Perhaps then I could have loved you as you deserve to be loved." Eomer was a noble man, and it adds to Legolas' grieve that he had been pulled into this doomed love.

"Stay with me," Eomer pleads.

"I cannot."

"How much longer?" The man asks, a hardness forming in his throat.

"Not long."

Eomer has to swallow back a sob, but he only holds Legolas closer. "I will stay with you," he promises.

"Thank you," the Prince whispers. He is glad not to die alone, it's nice to lie here in the solid embrace of a man who loves him, even if it is not the man he wishes. He feels a warmth in his chest even as his limbs grow cold.

His eyes close and he feels himself drifting away.

_Just how much you…_


End file.
